


Goodbyes

by gresniandjeo29



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gresniandjeo29/pseuds/gresniandjeo29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is actually going to be a series of one-shots between various Shepards and their love interests. I'm sure I'm not the only person who was disappointed by the LI options for carryover in Mass Effect 3. Mass Effect 2 gave us some of the most compelling characters I have ever seen, ever, and though we could choose to stay with them in ME3, the interaction with them was pretty low. I'm thinking most about Miranda and Jack. Basically, it makes Tali and Garrus the best romance choices because they're with us the most. But how does my pure renegade male Shep go back to Ashley after Miranda? How does my paragon male Shepard move on from Jack? Anyway, it pisses me off that there isn't more said before Shepard dies, so these are my goodbye letters or conversations. I threw up some names, but I will probably add or subtract as I go along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bioware owns all, but I say when I'm done.

Dear Jack,

Right now, I'm hours out from Earth and my mission to take down the Reapers...never thought I'd be coming home this way and I'm thinking of people we've lost. Thane did a lot of writing to his son at the end. I'm sure I'm not as eloquent. Worst case scenario though, I've got a lot to say to you. First of all, if you're reading this...if you're reading this, I know you're pissed off. I know you don't like it--men playing hero. I'm sorry, Jack. I want you to know that I am sitting here now thinking of how I am ready for anything--screw professionalism, screw ethics--I will do ANYTHING, no matter how low, to come back to you. I am completely at peace with any action that will let me chase you down and tie you down to me. If I'm gone, it means I had no choice. I need you to believe that. I made a mistake when I left you to return to the Alliance. I'm human. I make mistakes--but I don't repeat them. I've fought for the common good, yes. But I've also fought for you and for us.

You once told me that I make the best mistakes--it was no mistake to stand by you. You're a tough nut to crack, Jack. I worked so hard to earn your trust, and it was an honor, a privilege. I've done a lot of things in my life, Jack, and nothing was as worthwhile as that. And you better believe, if I make it through this war, I am coming for you and you won't be able to get rid of me. I dream of so many things...an apartment on the Citadel, taking an instructor position with N7...whatever it takes to never leave you again.

We've both had our parts to play in this war--you've had your place and I've had mine. And it's my fault that your place wasn't with me. When I went back, I didn't want you to be arrested with me. I had my reputation before Cerberus and high level officials to protect me, but if they took you...I wasn't sure I'd have any influence and I couldn't take the risk. I told myself it was only temporary--I just wanted you to be free. Now, I'm looking at how much time with you I've lost, how much more I want to know and want you to know...

I didn't tell you much about how I grew up--didn't think it mattered, but we had something in common. We both had it rough. You were locked up in a lab and I grew up on the streets. I didn't have parents. My mom died in a cancer ward when I was still just a kid. I got out of there just in time to avoid the social worker. She wasn't even cold yet, but I knew to run. I worked as a mule, I ran packages and did some pick-pocketing until I got older. Then it became heavier stuff. Most of the scars on my body are from that time. Once I joined the Alliance, I got armor, trained my biotics...anyway. I never said it, but crime can be alright for anyone...I just always had my limits.

When I enlisted...I did it to get off planet. I interrupted a pimp near my squat beating up one of his girls. She was really hurt, I couldn't just stand by, so I got in the middle. I was a bloody mess when I showed up at the recruitment office...not as bad as the other guy, but bad. I was 16 and I lied about my age so they'd take me. The upside of this is, I'm not as old as you thought. Anyway, Alliance training did a lot for me...so did three meals a day. I got routine, an education and I could finally advance on my own terms, for the most part--so, I went career.

I'm not comparing you to that girl--except that you were both hurt bad. The beating I took for her was nothing. The fight I gave was nothing...because I met you, and you were everything. I gave everything this time--and I want you to know that even if I had made it back, nothing would change. I know you don't want me to protect you and you don't need me to--you can handle yourself. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to...and that would have been true anywhere, anytime. It would have been true in an apartment on the Citadel, on any space station in the galaxy; whether I was commander of the Normandy or an N7 instructor. I can't help it and I hope you forgive me.

This was so hard, Jack. Not having you with me, having to settle for stolen kisses in front of your students and dances at Purgatory. How many times did I lie down for a couple of hours rest and wish you were next to me? The answer's easy--every time. Of course, if you were with me, I probably wouldn't have been resting...but I'd have gotten up again feeling a whole lot better. I know that. I have a lot of regrets...a lot of things I dreamed of doing with you...or to you. I never got to take you into the mountains to a cabin we'd never see the outside of. And I would have given anything to spend whatever spare seconds I had with you.

I feel really weird writing this. I'm trying to tell you everything I always meant to or planned to and it's all jumbled up. Meeting you seems so long ago. Going up against the Collectors...God, what a cakewalk compared to this. And getting to know you--I acted like I had all the time in the world back then. I guess I thought I did. I probably could have rushed you, but that would've have made it a one time thing and I always wanted more. I wouldn't do anything different. It had to be right with you. It just had to.

I told you a lot of things in a language I thought you'd understand and appreciate, but I never said how I really feel. I know you don't like sentimental stuff, but I've got to say it; and if you're reading this, this is my last chance. I love you, Jack. I love you. And I swear, if you're reading this--I really would have done anything. I had no limits when it came to you. You're really something. From the minute I saw you snap your restraints straight out of cryo...I didn't know I'd be with you, but I knew you were going to take me to school and you did. You will always be the love of my life. I hope it's like Thane said. If it is, I'll be waiting for you on the beach and you better not be wearing anything but your ink when you get there. I'll want to make up for lost time. 

Yours,  
Shepard...James, if you want.


	2. Jack's reaction--for Matt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt asked for Jack's reaction and this is what I came up with. I love you, Jack.

Time had come to a standstill. He couldn't tell how long he had been standing there and everything seemed to be running in slow motion. He had made this trip a few times in his life, once at C-sec, once per member of the team he had lost. He had delivered the news together with the datapad. But the datapad hit the floor in the same instant that the conference table toppled to one side, chairs crashing against the wall in real time. A feral growl ricocheted around him.

"SHEPARD!" The name found the voice that uttered it full of anger and accusation as it tried to scream across the great void. "Damn you, Shepard!" The same voice cried out even louder than before, its timbre shifting to color with desperation, despair creeping in. He didn't know what he had expected...from any of them.

He hadn't read the datapad and he didn't need to. He knew what it said. He had one of his own, just in case, and he had done this before. It was the last wish of a friend, a brother...and he knew his brother. He had been with Shepard since the beginning, since the mere dawn of the real threat. And he had been with him to the end. He looked at her face. Water was leaking from large eyes that were widened with rage to draw long lines of kohl down her cheeks and jaw. Light glinted from her ears, her skin gleaming and colorful.

Another sound, a keening howl, reverberated in the small space as all of the furniture was cleared in one fluid blue stroke to the far wall. She paced, turning like a cornered animal. "He thinks this makes it alright? He thought some stupid letter would make it ok?" She was wild. She had seemed to most an unchecked liability. Shepard had changed that. He had kept her by his side when they took out the Collector base, showing everyone that he trusted her with his life...and then she had proven herself, something that she continued to do working with Grissom students throughout the war. As a member of that same winning squad, Garrus respected her. He respected the skill she demonstrated and her denial of what others had thought of her--a denial she made from her own existence.

She stopped mid-pace to turn in his direction, the back of her fist meeting her lips to stifle a first stray sob--helpless and small. "He was supposed to come back!" she said with anger ringing in the words, but she was losing steam. "No matter what I said...no matter what I told him about me..."she was shaking her head, staring at him with something like disbelief. "He always came back." She believed in him more than she knew...and now it was as if he had abandoned her. Suddenly, her eyes darted frantically to the datapad where it lay on the floor between them. She rushed to it, crumpling to pick it up, as if she was afraid she had broken it. Then the words would be gone. His friend, James Shepard, the man who loved her would be gone. Relief flew across her features. It wasn't broken.

"Jack..."She scanned the words again. And again. And again. "Jack..."Garrus tried to begin again. She was unresponsive, staring at Shepard's letter. "Shepard never tried to do the right thing, to be the hero...it's just what he was." His mind flashed back to Sidonis in his scope and lowering his weapon. James was the genuine article and he couldn't change. "He asked me to give you this if he..."he lowered his voice to gentle it,"...if he couldn't come back." He paused. "I'm sorry, Jack."

Shepard had never done much to mask his feelings. He was truthful to a fault. James laughed at his jokes about reach and flexibility, but he took his own relationships seriously...like his relationship with Ashley. Ashley was a nice girl, beautiful. She had a big family where Shepard had none. Some of that warmth must have attracted him. And they were both soldiers, they had that in common. As soon as Shepard had control of the Normandy, he had gone straight to Anderson and Ashley's name had been the first word on his lips when he got there. He hadn't forgotten her and Garrus had felt for him when he looked for her and couldn't get any answers.

But Jack, from the outset, had been another matter. When they had extracted her from prison, he had caught a look that crossed Shepard's face as she ran from cryo. It wasn't gawking or even admiration...it was more like recognition, like he knew her somehow. From that time on, he didn't turn his back on her, no matter what she threw at him. She was with them on Horizon when they finally caught up with Ashley. Garrus wasn't sure it had mattered to him by then. He had something he shared with Jack that meant even more to him than being a soldier. After what for him had been a definitive conclusion to his ties to Ash, he began visiting her, trying get to know her better. He gave her space, but didn't leave her alone too long. He supported her through the trip to Pragia and when she couldn't detonate the bomb they had planted there, he had detonated it for her. He freed her and that meant something to him. If she had ever made it clear that he wasn't welcome, Garrus was sure he would have respected it. In the end, James had been a man in love, and his heart had been wiser. No one ever looked happier dropping in on a Collector base. Shepard wasn't the type to kiss and tell, but his face told it all. When he found her at Grissom Academy and she slapped him before reading him the riot act, James had taken it with a smile. He understood her. It didn't matter that she was mad at him because she hadn't forgotten him after Alliance detention. She kissed him on the evac-shuttle. That mattered. "You were his bright spot in all of this, Jack. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that. He didn't go out there to lose, he went out there to win and I watched him fight. I watched him do things I didn't know anyone could do and I know he wasn't fighting for everyone else. He was fighting for you. The choice he made was for you, to protect you...and to make sure that it never happened again. He was my best friend. I don't need to know what he wrote to know that he loved you. He'd do anything for you." He wasn't sure if anything he was saying was getting through, let alone comforting her. "Jack?"

She looked up from the pad, but it wasn't to make eye contact. Folding her arms around the datapad, she drew it in to her waist. "You were supposed to come back." Her voice trembled and cracked as she said it. "You always came back...damn you, Shepard." Those last words shaped by full quivering lips were left without enough breath behind them to even form a whisper. From the floor where she was kneeling with the datapad clasped to her, he could see her body begin to rock and shake. What had started with silent tears that ruined her makeup, suddenly exploded into a long, thunderous, twisted wail. It paused only in gathering air, each iteration more desperate than the last. As her voice lost strength, it gained in fury. He really didn't know what he had expected...from any of them. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes against the sound until, at last broken, only gasping and choking remained. "Damn you, Shepard. Damn you, Shepard. Damn you Shepard. Damn you, Shepard..."


	3. Chapter 3

"There must be another way." 

 

Neither option was particularly attractive. He could destroy the synthetics. That would end the Reaper threat, though the Godchild explained that something else would take their place. Otherwise, organic life would destroy itself. _To die at Reaper hands, or at our own._ It was imperfect at best. It would mean destroying EDI and the geth, all of whom carried a piece of Legion's sacrifice. It seemed like a betrayal to them, and to Joker. Synthetic or no, EDI was Joker's girl, and he couldn't see taking her out any more than he could take out his own. _Jack..._

 

Controlling the Reapers was a second option which required him to take the Godchild's place... _to become the ghost in the machine._ He would be able to control all synthetics. In time, perhaps he could learn to inhabit one. But that would be the only way for him to come back. He could wait out the lives of his team, but inevitably, he would have to command the Reapers to destroy some distant generation...to visit upon them what had been visited upon everyone he knew. _I can do a lot of things...but I can't do that. I'd never come back, not really._ All he wanted was to come back from this campaign. _She's waiting for me. I know she is._

 

"There is a third option," quipped the Godchild, revealing another facet to the equation. Synthesis. If he chose synthesis, he would disperse and merge with all synthetics, changing them. They would be alive. EDI would be alive. He would still not come back, but neither would he be gone. And most importantly, the situation they were in could never arise again. It would be over. His people would be safe. Jack would be safe.

 

He was bleeding from several places, the worst in his side. One arm was useless and he could feel himself starting to shiver. He didn't have long to make a decision. If he lost consciousness and died on that floor, he wouldn't be coming back either, and the problem wouldn't be solved. He'd have to hold on a little longer. It wasn't a decision to take lightly either. The universe depended on it. The whole universe...Jack included.

 

Destroying them was the selfish option and he hungered for it. He'd get out of here. He'd hold on until help came and then they'd send him back to Jack. Maybe he'd be able to convince people of what he'd learned so they could be prepared when the new answer to organic existence arrived. In any case, he'd get to live out his life. He could leave the decision making to greater minds. But something clawed at him. He'd find Jack and settle down...and then his war could easily become his childrens' war. That was not the point....to have the life of his dreams at the expense of the family he hoped to have with her. She was ready. She didn't know it yet, but he did. He knew by the way she talked about her students, the way they awakened her protective streak. She'd raise kids as strong as she was...hell, as strong as they both were... and he'd love them as much as he loved her. _No use dreaming of it. I can't leave this behind for them to suffer later._ Controlling synthetics was not even on the table for him. He could do a lot of things, but eventually sending the Reapers out on their hunt of extinction was not one of them. If the two choices both involved not coming back, he'd take synthesis and end it, once and for all.

 

"I've made my decision." He was limp and lame and getting colder by the second. _It's the only way I can protect you, protect us...always._ He couldn't move too fast, but he still made the effort to jog, hoping that if he did it faster it would somehow help him break through the pain. Every step felt unfathomably slow, and the weight of his heart was heavy and excrutiating. He was leaving her. He knew what he was doing and he was leaving her. Nothing had ever been further from his intentions or his desires. His mind seemed to try to convince him to halt, pasting together frame after frame of her beautiful face; in anger, in pain, in terror, in satisfaction, even laughter...one after another like ancient animated film. He couldn't stop. He had to do it...for her, for all of them. With that thought, he threw himself, diving head first into the stream.

 

He couldn't have described the feeling to anyone and expect to be understood. He could feel himself flying apart; every atom, every void. _Jack_. He could feel himself dissolving amid particles of color. _Jack. Jack._ He was falling further. _Jack._ And now he could see her. He could finally see her. He felt like his heart was about to burst like the rest of him as he reached out to the shimmering form. _Jack._

 

Down in the belly of the Normandy's engineering where she had slept before, she bolted up from her old cot. "Shepard?!" she called out into the dark. She didn't even know she had fallen asleep, but she'd been awake for days. _Bound to happen sooner or later_. She rubbed her forehead. Then Joker's voice came over the comm-system.

 

"Jack?"

 

"Yeah, Joker. What've you got for me?" she answered, trying not to sound like a little kid scared of the dark. I _'m not scared of shit. I fucking own the dark._ Even as she thought it, she knew it was just to comfort herself. He was out there and they were all waiting for news.

 

"Garrus is back. I thought you'd want to know. He's up in the conference room."

 

"I'll be right up." Her voice sounded sure. _Shepard?_ A knot had formed in her throat.


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Shepard,

So now the Alliance is having me psych evaluated before they'll let me get back to work. I've been out of Grissom for three months thanks to your ass. Hope you're happy...no I don't. I hope you're miserable. 'Cause I'm miserable.

I took some of this time off voluntarily. It was real hard to get used to the idea that you weren't around anymore. It's not like we had that much time together...but, you know, I always knew you were around somewhere. Back then, I didn't know where you were, but I knew you were out saving the universe like a fucking boy scout. Not like now. Now you're gone, but I know exactly where you are. You're under my Alliance issue cot in an Alliance issue box, wrapped in a stupid flag with your dog tags, the same tags I used to pull on when you were rolling around in bed with me, on top like some kind of fucked up present. I know the box is empty, Dr. Becker. It's symbolic or whatever. Not like the Alliance recognized me as your common-law widow or something. Garrus had to "collect" you for me. So now I know where I've got you and I've got no idea what to fucking do with you.

After I got you back, your tags anyway, I used to talk to you. Then somebody must've found out, 'cause some parents got worried and that landed me in this fucking mess, trying to prove I'm a little mental instead of criminally insane. My record's not really helping. The only thing keeping me out of a jacket at this point is your reputation. Don't appreciate that either...like you were the only thing holding me together...and maybe you were. I don't know. But I was doing good work at Grissom and now they won't let me back without the psych evaluation and now the fucking shrink is making me write to you, to tell you how I feel for fucking closure, so she can read it and decide if I'm clear to go back to work or not. And I'm ready as all hell, because that would hold me together.

So I got your letter. Garrus came, tried to talk me though the whole thing. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that, huh? What? Was I supposed to feel all warm and mushy, all butterflies and unicorns inside and think, "Aw, I'm nothing but rainbows and puppies 'cause my man loves me."? Was I supposed to feel loved? You son of a bitch. As if it wasn't bad enough that I'd never see you again. You should have written that you were dumping me for that nagging Ashley bitch so I could hate you and be glad you were dead, but no. No. No. You had to send me that instead. You had to make me...love you even more. Why Shepard? You said you wanted me to be free. Where's my freedom now?

You think anyone's ever going to stop pitying me? That I had the love of humanity's greatest hero? Oh, where will I go from there? You think anyone's going to try to compete with you? With your memory? Come on, Shepard. Until that last fight, you were unbeatable alive. You'll be unbeatable dead. Fuck. Have you got any idea how people watch me now? You know how women on the Citadel look at me? How they wonder what I've got that they don't? You know they're imitating my ink now? Fuck. Just fuck. I guess I can't blame you for it. You were always high profile. I knew that going in. Eyes wide open, right?

So what was so goddamned important anyway? You said you'd come back. You said you were coming back. You said it over the vid-comm and you were fucking sure of yourself. You gave me your word, Mr. Boy Scout. You promised. So what was so fucking important? What was the impossible decision? Nevermind, 'cause I don't care. You came back from the dead once, so where the fuck are you? 

And why, Shepard? Why did you write me that message? Was it so you could go to your death with some kind of clear conscience? 'Cause you don't deserve one. 'Cause it worked. I did feel loved. I felt love I'm pretty sure I'm never going to feel again. I don't know how, but you did it. You made me love you more. You're gone. And I'm here. And I love you more than I ever believed I could love anyone and I'm alone. And I don't see any other option than just waiting out the hours 'cause no one will ever be you. And all I want is to get back to WORK and do something with all the fucking free time I have now that I'm never going to see you again. How's that Dr. Becker? You like that? Real enough for you?

Anyway, Shepard...James, if you want. This letter is supposed to be about me and you and closure and shit, and I just don't know if I'm ready for that. I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Maybe I need that empty box with the flag and tags under my bunk. Maybe I need it to know that you were real. That you were real and you loved me and I loved you back and you didn't screw me over. Maybe I can even believe some of the shit Garrus told me. It sounded like you...the stuff he said. Maybe. And maybe I need to talk to you because there's no one I trust more. Maybe moving on with my life and WORK will just be a way to cope until I can get in the empty box. And maybe that's just the way it has to be.

You talked about a beach, James. Fuck, I feel weird calling you that. You talked about a beach and...I was never really into beaches, but it sounded good. I don't believe in a lot of this stuff, but I hope you're right and Thane's right. I don't know how long it's gonna take now that you fixed everything...but I'll see if I can get there. And I'll try to meet the dress code.

I'm not saying goodbye. Not any more than you did. And anyone who wants me to or thinks that I should can go fuck themselves. Send me back to Grissom, Dr. Becker.

Yours,  
Jack


End file.
